


Brimstone

by Jade_Dragoness



Series: Following the Evil Overlord List [4]
Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Alternate Universe - Evil, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-19
Updated: 2011-04-19
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:37:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade_Dragoness/pseuds/Jade_Dragoness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evil AU. A demon comes after Marcone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I decided to stop by Mercy Hospital to question the two junkies that Susan had told me about. I’d intended to it yesterday but I’d gotten sidelined by Murphy’s call. So I decided that I might as well finish up my investigation of ThreeEye while I had a free moment. If all went as planned, I wasn’t going to be getting out of bed early tomorrow. Or at all if I got really lucky.

Bad pun completely intended.

I would’ve said screw it, and started the date early but I hadn’t been able to talk Marcone into staying with me. He’d needed to run the name Bianca had given him; an acquaintance of the dead girl named, Linda Randall.

So I had Marcone drop me off my apartment because I needed to run my own errands before eight o’clock rolled around. I didn’t trust the new sedan to last too much longer in my presence and at least the Blue Beetle had never burst into flames on me. Well, not counting the couple of times it’s been hit by a stray fireball. That wasn’t really the Beetle’s fault.

The two junkies were being held in the Behavioral Health Center. A young uniformed cop guarded the door of the inpatient room.

I showed him the laminated consultant card Murphy had given me.

The cop was uncertain about letting me in but a bit of compulsion was enough to convince that he didn’t really want to keep me out. It helped that I said that Lieutenant Murphy wouldn’t like it if I kept her waiting. Invoking Murphy’s name really got the cop‘s attention.

Inside the room I found the two junkies, both thin, young men in their mid-twenties, straining against thick, padded restraints.

One of them had his mouth open. I heard a thready, high-pitched sound. The junkie was screaming - or to be more accurate - attempting to scream. It sounded like he’d reduced his vocal cords to hamburger.

Interesting.

The other junkie noticed me enter.

“I see you! I see you, wizard! Wizard Overlord!” he laughed madly. “I, for one, welcome our new wizardly Overlord.”

Okay, I liked this guy even if he was an unkempt mess.

I walked right up o his bedside. “You see what I am? You see what I’ve done?” I asked coldly.

“All of it, yes! The blood! The death,” Messy raved. “The Rules! The Rules must be followed! The Rules rule you, Overlord!”

I rolled my eyes at these dramatics. “Then you know what I can do to you. Tell me who sold you the ThreeEye,” I ordered.

“The shadow sells it! The shadow sells it!” He struggled against the restraints, trying to move towards me. He fell back and moaned, “The shadow sells…the shadow sells it.”

I pressed my palm to face and sighed. Right, this wasn’t going to help.

I reached into my leather duster pocket and pulled out a faded blue Eye of Horus udjat. A year ago I’d picked up the protection amulet at an estate sale. I’d nearly forgotten I had it. I placed the udjat on Messy’s sweaty forehead. I kept my forefinger on it as I let out a small amount of willpower. It activated, throwing off warm, golden light.

Messy stiffened and then went limp becoming a human noodle as all his muscles relaxed.

“Let‘s try this again,” I said. “Who sold you the drug?”

Messy blinked rapidly before his bloodshot brown eyes actually focused locked on mine. “You stopped it,” he said, stunned.

“Yeah, I‘m blocking the Third Eye,” I said, exasperated. Junkies and their fried brains are so frustrating! “Now tell me what I want to know.”

“It was the shadow,” Messy said desperately. He moaned and began pulling at the restraints again. “Help me. Please help me.” His gaze looked around the room wildly. “I have money! Anything I have, it‘s yours!” He stared up at me with wide beseeching eyes. “I need more. _Please,_ I need more ThreeEye!”

I frowned at him before making up my mind. I put my hand over his eyes. _“Dormio, dorme,”_ I whispered. The junkie sighed and relaxed into deep sleep. _“Dorme eternidas.”_ The junkie slipped from sleep and into a coma. He’ll never wake from it. I plucked the amulet off his brow and tucked it back into my duster.

Dammit, what a waste of time. What the hell was this Shadow?

I frowned over at the other junkie, who’d never stopped screaming. He wouldn’t be any help.

I sighed in irritation and spun on my foot to walk out the hospital room. What? I’m evil. I only help people who help me. Consider it a variation on rule 68.-1

The door muted the annoying noise.

“Got what you needed for the lieutenant?” the cop asked.

“No. They‘re both useless,” I answered distractedly as I tried to think of where to go next for answers. I still had a couple of hours to kill before I met up with Marcone. I did have one more source to question, although the chances that he knew anything were incredibly low.

“Oh,” the cop licked his lips nervously. “Does she know about the recently seized case of the drug down in Evidence at the precinct?”

“No,” I said, giving him a smirk. “Thanks! She‘ll appreciate the head‘s up.”

“Just don’t let anyone other than the lieutenant know I told you,” he gave me a wan smile. “I‘m not suppose to share that information with civilians.”

“Sure,” I said, nodding agreeably. So it hadn’t been a total waste of time coming down here. I was in a much better mood as I walked away.

Now I just needed to come up with a way to avoid getting seen by any of Murphy’s spies when I finally did stop by the precinct. I pretty certain she was still ticked off at me for favoring Marcone with information. I’d have to be sneaky when I stopped by to get a good look at the ThreeEye.

I double checked my wallet to see if I had enough cash on hand to bribe the desk sergeant. I did. Good. After I hit up the precinct I’d need to make a stop to capture a fairy. And not the kind that you see in covered glitter at dance clubs.  
*-*-*-*

Trapping a minor fae is fairly easy. All you need is bait, a circle and their Name. Of course, if you don’t have the Name then it becomes really difficult. A Name is unique to everyone - human and inhuman alike - because no two people pronounce their name the exact same way. If a wizard knows the Name he or she could compel a fairy or demon to help them out. If wizard was really heavy handed then they could control the being entirely. But only if a wizard had the strength of will.

If you misjudged exactly how much power you needed, you’d be killed… eventually… if you were lucky.

I subscribed to the method of using a light hand. Rule 48 was an important one in my opinion, especially when dealing with eldritch beings.-2

This is why when I called out the Name I tied the gentlest amount of power to it. Then I hid myself in the shadows of the trees and waited. I already had the trap set: a circle hidden by leaves and baited with bread, honey and milk. A drop of my blood in the bread would allow me to spring my trap.

Less than ten minutes after my call a dewdrop fairy that went by the name of Toot-toot, came flying out over the waters of Lake Michigan. He was a spot of silver light barely six inches tall.

I watched silently as he landed near the saucer that held the bread, honey and thimbleful of milk. His dragonfly wings fluttered uncertainly. He looked around, stared at the food, and then looked around again. Finally he made his decision and went for it. As soon as he devoured the bread the power of the circle activated, trapping Toot-toot inside.

He screamed in fury and tried to fly out only to smack into the boundaries of the circle. He tumbled back, crashing into the ground in a puff of silver dust.

“Heya, Toot-toot,” I said, peering down at him.

“You! I should have known it was you, you ugly-”

I nodded, mostly tuning him out. The insults and threats were practically traditional at this point. I didn’t bother getting angry anymore. Toot had said them every time we’ve done this. First time I hadn’t exactly been pleased and almost torched him, but since then I’ve figured out the small fae needed this moment to puff up his ego for getting captured so easily.

It’s not like he ever learned his lesson, so I indulged him. He finally got to the point where he threatened to fill my mouth with dung when I interrupted him. “Toot, I have a job for you.”

He sighed in exasperation and crossed his arms. “You could at least let me finish with my threats.”

“I‘ve heard them before,” I said dryly. “Consider me properly threatened.”

He brightened. “Are you scared enough to let me out?”

“Nope.”

Toot deflated. “Not even if I said the Queen wouldn‘t be pleased?”

“Not even then,” I said.

Toot-toot sulked. “You could at least pretend to be scared, Harry.” His eyes flickered over to the bread and he zoomed over, devouring the rest of bread and honey, and practically inhaling the milk. He sighed happily, and patted his belly. “Because I am both wise and benevolent I will deign to hear your request for the generous gift of your cuisine.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “I need you to agree to help me in a job and _then_ I’ll let you go.”

Toot wrinkled his pug nose. “What kind of job?”

“There‘s a drug on the street called ThreeEye,” I said, “I‘ve given it a look and it‘s no mortal drug. It‘s a potion. It looks like green madness with floating screaming faces.”

Toot nodded knowingly.

I raised my eyebrows. “You know it?”

“I‘ve seen it.” Toot-toot shook his head, lavender hairs fluffing out making him look like a dandelion. “Mortals can‘t handle seeing the truth.”

“I want you to see if you can find the source because I want to know who’s making it and where.”

“This is a big job, Harry,” Toot said, raising his chin. “It‘ll cost more than bread, milk and honey.”

I blinked down at him. What else did fairies eat? It’s always been bread, milk and honey. “What do you want?”

“Pizza!” Toot shouted, shooting up in the air in his excitement.

“Pizza?” I repeated. Faeries liked pizza. Okay, this was a new one to me.

“With pizza, I can get the help of Blueblossom and Rednose and Meg O’ Aspens, and Goldeneyes- ”

“I get it,” I cut in before I ended with a list of all the faeries in Chicago. “See how many of your friends you can get sign on to help you, say for two large pizzas. And an entire one for you if can get the information to me a soon as possible.”

Toot-toot’s wings went into overdrive making him sound like a buzz saw. “Yes! Yes! Yes! I’ll do it.”

I opened my mouth but ask him promise when he beat me to it.

“I promise! I promise! I promise!” he shouted, flying around the circle so quickly he threw off enough fairy dust to make me sneeze.

I broke the circle with my foot and Toot shot off into the woods.

Huh.

If I’d known that pizza was all I needed to secure his cooperation so quickly I’d have tried bribing him with it a long time ago. I wondered if it was possible get a dewdrop fairy signed on retainer if the promised payment would be pizza. I’ll have to ask Bob.

Since there wasn’t any point in sticking around - Toot-toot wouldn’t be able to find the manufacturer of the ThreeEye potion right away - I turned to leave the area.

A familiar male voice shouted, “Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden!”

I groaned and turned to see Morgan - my Warden stalker - standing one hundred feet away, shouting at me from the shores of the Lake Michigan.

“You‘re in violation of the Fourth Law of Magic: Irresponsible use of true names for summoning and binding others to your will!”

“Argh!” I slapped my face with my hand. I shouted right back, “That applies only to mortals, not to the fae! He made the choice to help me! Try dragging me in and see what that gets you! The Merlin said if you called a meeting for something so trivial again you‘d lose your cloak!”

Stars, I hoped he didn’t call my bluff. While I’d love to see the Merlin yank away Morgan’s authority as a Warden I didn’t have the time to waste. If I missed my date with Marcone because of this incompetent idiot I swear I will have him killed. I have a couple of bridge trolls that owe me favors. They could use a good meal, although he’d probably give them indigestion.

Morgan waved his blade in my general direction. “That‘s a technicality!” he bellowed.

I growled deeply from sheer frustration. “Take this for a technicality!” I snarled. “You‘re in violation of your restraining order! You need to be 100 _yards_ away, not 100 _feet_! That’s _300_ feet, you moron!”

Morgan paused mid-wave and silently slid his blade back into his scabbard. Even from where I stood I could see his cheeks flush dark. “You’re a blight and you‘ll mess up one day, Dresden! And I‘ll be there! Everyone will know the depths of your evil!”

He vanished beneath a veil.

I snorted in disgust. At least the man had some respect for mortal authority. If Morgan hadn’t been willing to listen to what the judge had said about the consequences of breaking the restraining order, he would really have been a pain in my ass. Well, he still was, but it was harder for him to be real pest when he had to maintain such a large distance. Anyway, I had something much more important to think about than Morgan, like my date.

Now that reminder really brightened up my dark mood.  
*-*-*-*

I almost wasn’t ready in time. I kept getting distracted by the feel of the huge storm building up in the sky above Chicago. There is a lot of energy in a thunder storms, and my magical senses could feel all that gathering power. The mixing of the elements of fire, water, earth and air usually made people tense and jumpy but it made me feel both energized and a little drunk.

This really made it hard to get dressed. My injured arm wasn’t helping me either.

I’d just carefully shrugged into a white button shirt when the door bell rang. I ran out of my bedroom. I hadn’t even had the chance to do up my shirt when I opened the door.

Marcone’s gaze swept me from the top of my shower damp hair to my bare chest to my socked feet. I took the opportunity to admire him right back. He looked so edible in his jeans and dark blazer. It was the sort of casual style that spoke of a man who was both comfortable and confident in himself. Hell, even the weather was on his side when perfectly timed flash of lightning made him look powerful.

It was a sight that made me want to rip his clothes off.

Marcone arched his eyebrows. I grinned at him.

“You’re not ready, should I come back in ten minutes, Mr. Dresden?”

“No!” I yelped. I wasn’t about to give him the excuse to wiggle out of this date.

The corners of Marcone’s mouth went up.

Bastard, gorgeous bastard. “Inside,” I commanded.

He huffed with amusement but listened to my order anyway.

Oh, I liked that.

“You‘re not going to be calling me Mister all night are you?” I asked, as I all but dragged him to my living room.

“Quite possibly,” he said, his gaze drifting over me again. “Depending, of course, on how the date goes.”

I grinned wolfishly. “Then I‘ll make it my goal to have you calling me Harry before the night is over.” I leaned closer to him. He watched me calmly. “Or even better I‘ll have you screaming it.”

I could see how my words hit Marcone as his eyes widened slightly before he exerted control over his expression.

“We shall see won‘t we, _Mr._ Dresden,” Marcone said without any waver in his voice.

Stars, he was impressive. I loved a challenge. I know, I know, I’m technically breaking Rule 114 but I’d dare anyone to resist Marcone right now.-3

“Oh, I always succeeded in my goals, _Agent_ Marcone,” I purred. I pressed my hand to my chest. His eyes flickered over to my bared skin

I didn’t bother suppressing a smug smirk as I left him to finish getting dressed.

I’d just finished buttoning up my shirt, and was debating whether to wear a blazer of my own or stick with my leather coat when I heard the door bell ring again. I frowned, and cast out my senses for who could be at the door but the storm muddled them and I got nothing.

“Finish getting dressed Mr. Dresden, I‘ll get the door!” Marcone called.

And my heart stopped, because that’s when my senses caught it: magic that was dark and ugly and slimy, bringing forth a spirit-being.

I cursed, snatched up my staff before breaking into a run. I’d barely made it to the hallway when I saw Marcone open the door, revealing on my doorstep a squat figure barely five feet tall in a brown trench coat.

The bright flash of lightning illuminated its face which was inhumanly wrong, toad-like and glowing with bulbous electrical blue eyes.

A demon stood on my doorstep just two feet away from Marcone.

Crap.

*-*-*-*

1\- Rule #68. I will spare someone who saved my life sometime in the past. This is only reasonable as it encourages others to do so. However, the offer is good one time only. If they want me to spare them again, they'd better save my life again.

2\- Rule #48. I will treat any beast which I control through magic or technology with respect and kindness. Thus if the control is ever broken, it will not immediately come after me for revenge.

3\- Rule #114. I will never accept a challenge from the hero.


	2. Chapter 2

Marcone’s reaction was fast, freakishly fast.

I’d barely had the chance to open my mouth while he reached under his blazer, pulled out a Glock, aimed and shot three times into the demon’s body. All the bullets hit but they didn’t penetrate, merely ricocheted. Two buried themselves into the wooden doorframe. Another nearly hit Marcone, missing him by inches.

Marcone had come to our date armed. I was overwhelmed by admiration and lust for a split second then the demon hissed. Its throat undulated and it opened its mouth.

“Duck!” I shouted.

Marcone moved just in time, avoiding the spray of acid by falling back. The spray hit the far wall with a hiss and the acrid smell of burning chemicals as it ate a large hole in my wall. Marcone rolled away, clearing my line of fire.

 _“Fozare!”_ I shouted. I aimed my staff, pouring power into the spell. The blast of force hit the toad demon barely rocking back it on its heels. Hell’s bells, that’d been my best blow.

The demon stepped forward until it ran into my threshold. It paused for a moment then began slowly pushing forward.

Hell, that wasn’t good.

Marcone coolly aimed his gun and fired again. A head shot this time. The bullet hit the demon right in the forehead, nearly knocking it back.

“Aim for its eyes,” I said, skidding to a stop by Marcone’s side.

“Would that help? It appears to bullet resistant,” Marcone said calmly, his gaze firmly locked on the demon.

“Most things don‘t like things in their eyes,” I said.

“So… you‘re guessing,” he said.

“Pretty much,” I admitted. I haven’t exactly fought a lot of demons. I’ve called them up for information but trying to keep them from killing me… not so much.

“Then get ready for a ricochet,” Marcone said, and he fired again.

One of the demon’s glowing eyes exploded in violent mess of fluids. The demon hissed, and pressed a long-fingered and pad-tipped hand to its face. Black blood dripped from between its webbed fingers. Its other toady eye glowed with hatred.

Marcone tried to fire again but the pistol jammed. The demon spat its acid at him.

 _“Vento Riflittum!”_ I gestured desperately and caught the mass before it reached Marcone. I sent the acid splattering back on the demon where it dissolved away the trench coat. Unfortunately, I also got caught in a backsplash of a few droplets.

The cotton of my shirt and pants hissed and smoked. I dropped my staff, tore off my shirt, and wiggled out of my pants and underwear as quickly as I could. I was lucky. The thicker cotton of my slacks gave me the extra precious second I needed to get out of them before the acid reached my skin. I scooped up my staff and glowered darkly at the demon.

Admittedly my death glare probably lost a lot of its effectiveness since I was clad only in socks.

“Out! Out! Out! You‘re not welcome here! Get out of my home!” I snarled, pointing my staff at it again. I pushed as hard as I could with my will. The demon paused, leaning against the threshold. For a moment I thought that would be enough. But it slowly, slower than before, it pushed against both the threshold and my own power. It was still getting inside my house.

Hell’s bells. I took a deep breath, reminded myself of Rule 24 - the last thing I wanted to do was get killed by a toad - and backed out of acid range.-4 “We need to get to the basement.”

“Do you have a plan?” Marcone asked. He took his eyes off the demon, and looked at me arching his eyebrows. “Nice socks.”

I couldn’t even take the moment to pose for him. Dammit. This isn’t the scenario I had in mind when I was planning getting naked with him tonight. “It’s ruining my date. The plan is to _kill_ this sonuvabitch.”

Marcone shot me a slight smile. “Good plan, but a little lacking on the details.”

“It‘s a work in progress,” I grinned back. I shot the demon one last look to gauge how long the threshold would hold up before making a run down the stairs. At most, we had ten seconds. So to buy us time as soon as we were both in the workroom, I activated the wards. I hadn’t bothered to add wards to the entire house. Clearly a stupid decision I’d have to fix.

“Wake up, Bob!”

Bob’s blue eyes flickered on as he yawned. His eyes flickered dark as he blinked. “Harry, are you aware that there is currently a demon attacking the wards?”

“Yes!” I said, exasperated. “It’s kinda hard to miss.”

Marcone watched Bob with interest.

Bob stared right back with narrowed eyes. A neat trick considering he was spirit in a skull. “You,” he said coldly.

Marcone’s eyebrows rose. “You‘ve heard of me?”

“Bob,” I cut in as Bob’s jaw opened. “Focus! What do we have on hand that can take down a demon powerful enough to tear through my threshold?” I grabbed my .38 revolver, loaded it, and handed it to Marcone, with extra bullets. He was a better shot.

“At the moment? Nothing,” Bob said, turning to me and pointedly ignoring Marcone.

I paused in the middle of tying my shield bracelet around my wrist. “Nothing?”

“You used the last of the saint’s bone last month. I told you to replace it.”

I grimaced. Right, and this is why I need to remember to follow Rule 17.-5 It’s on the List for reason!

“But if you want my analysis of the situation,” Bob continued. “It is more than likely that the demon isn‘t after you. After all why would it show up now when you‘re with _him_? Give it what it wants and it‘ll probably let you live.”

“That‘s not an option,” I said, catching Marcone’s eyes.

“I wouldn‘t blame you,” he said. “If the demon is after me at least then you would survive.”

I scowled at him. Stupid heroic tendencies. I protected what was mine. And Marcone was mine, even if he didn’t know it yet.

I felt the workshop’s wards buckling under the demon‘s assault. I thought furiously, I had another option other than throwing Marcone at the demon but it meant taking him down to the sub-basement.

“We‘re _both_ getting out of here,” I said, coming to a decision. I grabbed a plastic bottle off one of the shelves, opened it, pressing it to my lips but was careful not to actually drink before I gave it to Marcone.

“Take a sip, just a sip,” I warned.

Marcone frowned slightly. “What’s this?”

“A potion,” I said, looking around to see if there was anything I could use. Dammit, even my sword cane was upstairs. “We‘ll need it to get out.”

He raised his eyebrow, but pressed it to his lips anyway. He took a small sip, the tightening of his mouth the only indication of the vile taste. He handed me the bottle. I put it back on the shelf. Then I shoved Bob’s table making him rock back and forth as it scooted three feet.

“Harry!” he protested. “Do you really think that‘s a good idea? He‘s an FBI agent!”

I ignored him and opened up the sub-basement door. A folding ladder-staircase led down into pitch blackness.

“Fine,” Bob continued. “Ignore my advice, breaking your own rules.”

“I only have to listen to you occasionally, Bob. I reserve my right to ignore you,” I said dryly. “Now activate your shield, this demon spits acid.”

“Be careful, Harry,” Bob said, his normally cold eyelights softening. “I‘d hate to have to break in a new employer.”

I grinned at him. “Careful or I‘ll start thinking you actually give a damn.”

He made a noise of disgust and activated the tabletop sigils. They glowed with bright blue power making Bob vanish behind a white opaque dome.

The wards chose then to give up the ghost. The demon appeared at the top of the staircase.

“Go!” I said, and Marcone rapidly descended the ladder. The demon spat, and I activated my shield bracelet. The acid splattered and slid down from head level. If I‘d been just a second slower I’d have gotten a face full of acid.

 _“Vento servitas!”_ I snarled. Wind howled from the end of my staff, slowing the demon’s descent.

I took that free moment to slide down into the subbasement. I fell too fast but Marcone caught me before I hit the cement floor.

I sprawled against his chest and grinned. “My hero.”

That earned me a wide smile, but unfortunately I couldn’t enjoy my position because I could hear the demon getting closer. I scrambled off Marcone, and snapped the door closed. I slipped the heavy lock into place and activated the second layer of wards. These wards weren’t really intended to provide protection. They were supposed to keep the feel of dark magic from spilling over into Chicago. At most, they’d buy us a handful of seconds.

 _“Flickum bicus,”_ I said. All the candles lit up revealing glass jars, boxes, Tupperware containers, tins, and various odds and ends. One entire wall was devoted to a large bookshelf. It practically groaned under the strain of the books. I walked over to it.

“Is that a jar full of hearts?” Marcone asked flatly.

“Don‘t worry, most of them aren‘t human,” I said absently as I felt under the third shelf. I found the hidden button and pressed it. I grinned at the sound of metal gears. And the entire bookshelf slid forward three feet.

Did I forget to mention that I’ve had the house remodeled after I bought it? A secret escape route was only one of the new tricks in the place.

“Mr. Dresden.”

The dangerous tone in Marcone’s voice made me turn to look at him. He was giving me a grim, deadly look which sent a mix of thrill and worry through me.

“It wasn’t anyone who didn’t deserve it,” I said, staring into his eyes. “You‘ve seen my soul. Do you really think I‘d kill anyone who’s truly innocent, and didn‘t deserve it?”

He stared hard at me for a moment before he relaxed. “No, you‘re right, you wouldn’t harm a true innocent.”

In my utter delight at his reaction I just had to grab him by the lapels of his blazer, pulling his towards me so I could kiss him. He stiffened at the feel of my lips and I softened my mouth, licking at his lips. Slowly, he thawed and kissed me back.

Only…

I pulled back. “Dammit, you won‘t remember this in a minute.”

He frowned slightly at me. “What do you mean?”

“Secret escape tunnels are only good if they‘re kept secret,” I said regretfully. The potion had been the memory erasing one I’ve been trying to perfect. I’d hated to do it, but I couldn’t afford for Marcone to remember what he’d seen in my sub-basement. If I’d thought he’d take it so well…

“Mr. Dresden, what-” he cut himself off, shaking his head. He blinked rapidly and without further warning he slumped towards the ground.

It was my turn to catch him and his head lolled against my bare shoulder.

“Crap, the potion isn’t supposed to do that,” I frowned and took the moment to check his breathing. It was steady but his heartbeat was a bit too fast. “Dammit, Harry. This is why we don‘t break rule 190.”-6

I adjusted my grip to make him easier to carry and got us both out through the tunnel just as the wards broke. I made sure to close the bookcase behind us then I took the exit that would open into the small plot of land at the back of the house. I could’ve dragged us both into the sewers or even to my small claimed territory in Undertown but Marcone was too heavy.

The hidden door opened up into the pouring thunderstorm, but I kept going. The heavy rainfall made Marcone groan softly.

“You‘ve got to wake up,” I said, as I carried him to the street. If I could find enough running water the demon’s energies would break up and with all this rain, there should be some nearby. A flooding street would do. Hopefully.

Marcone groaned again and groggily tried to open his eyes but he closed them after a second. I gritted my teeth and got us to the sidewalk.

“I didn‘t think you‘d last this long,” a voice said.

I gently set Marcone on the ground, grabbed my staff and turned to face the source of the voice. There was a pool of shadows underneath a broken lamppost right in front of my house. The shadows were darker than they should’ve been. They stank of a familiar ugly and crude sorcery.

“Who are you?” I demanded.

The voice laughed. “Like I’d tell you. All you need to know is that I‘m the one that‘s killed Marcone, and I‘ll kill you too for getting in the way.”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s not dead yet,” I pointed out dryly, “and I‘m not about to let him die.”

“My demon will kill you,” the voice said confidently. In the shadows a humanoid shape formed but I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. “How much longer do you think you‘ll last? Five minutes? Ten? No matter how long, my demon _will_ kill you.”

Ugh, gloating before the job was even done. If I hadn’t already planned to kill this sorcerer for interfering in my plans of getting Marcone into bed the violation of rule 6 would have been motivation enough.-7

Then I remembered the junkie’s words: The shadow sells it.

This bastard was also a drug dealer!

I narrowed my eyes, gathered my remaining will, and smacked the Shadow as hard as I could. It earned a loud gasp of surprise. With added concentration I managed to tear apart enough of the obscuring elements of the spell to reveal a curvy feminine shape.

So the Shadow bastard was a Shadow bitch.

“What did you do?”

I snorted. “Unlike some people, I know how to actually use my power.”

“You will pay for this!” she shrieked. The Shadow-woman began calling out the name of the demon.

I tried to capture it all but a roll of thunder blocked out half of it. I swore. The demon came out of one of the windows of my house and straight for me.

I snarled, pointing my staff at the Shadow-woman. “Marcone is mine and under my protection! _Stregallum finitas!”_

“No! You can‘t do this!” She screamed in pain, as my counterspell began tearing the image apart. “No! My demon will kill you!”

The image broke apart and I barely got to enjoy the surge of satisfaction because demon was getting closer.

Bang!

I practically jumped out of my skin as Marcone shot the demon in its remaining eye with my revolver. It shrieked, shook its head but continued towards us. It opened its mouth.

Marcone shot again, and again and again. Each hit making the demon pause, but failing to stop it. A flash of lightning illuminated exactly how close it was to us. It wouldn’t miss with its next acid attack, and I was practically running on empty in terms of power. I wouldn’t be able to fight it.

I had a choice. I could leave Marcone and make a run for it. Or I could face the demon. Well, like I told the Shadow bitch, he was mine. I protected what was mine.

I stood to face the demon.

The thunder rolled as if calling out my name. The storm.

Lightning.

I raised my staff towards the sky, and pointed at the demon with my free hand. I reached into the storm, controlling it, shaping it, drawing its power down towards my staff. I grinned, as all that energy filled me with giddiness. I’ve always wanted to say this, though I really needed white hair to pull it off. “Do you know what happens when a toad gets struck by lightning,” I mocked. I bellowed, _“Ventas! Ventas fulmino!”_

A spark of my lingering will leaped up to the sky from my staff and brought down the lightning.

I screamed my fury, struggling against indescribable power and channeled it from my staff, through my body and out my pointer finger.

Pure lightning - living fire - smashed into the demon, driving it up into the air. It screamed, its squat body arching, and its limbs flailing. Then it exploded with blue light like a second blast of lightning. Chunks of charcoaled toad demon splattered down in gruesome rain which fortunately then dissolved into ectoplasm.

My knees went weak and I abruptly sat on the ground. Smoke curled up from my finger, and my toes. I couldn’t resist. I brought my finger to my lips and blew away the lingering smoke.

“So, what are you doing next Saturday?” I asked Marcone, wiggling my socked feet. My toes peeked through large burned holes.

Marcone stared at me. “I‘m almost temped to say yes just to see what would happen,” he said.

I grinned at him, “This one isn‘t over yet. Technically it hasn‘t even started.”

Sirens pierced the air, moving closer to my neighborhood.

“I believe we‘ll be spending most of our night answering the police’s questions,” Marcone said, his lips curled up. “Such as: Why are you naked in public, Mr. Dresden?”

“I know you‘re secretly enjoying the view,” I said, with a smirk. I got to my feet. Marcone helped steady me, and then shrugged out of his blazer to place it around my shoulders.

My grin got wider at that gesture, and he wrapped an arm around my waist. His fingers rested on my bare hip. I had to resist the urge to really encourage him feel me up. I wanted to get off the sidewalk before the cops arrived at my street.

I didn’t really want to get arrested for public indecency. Again.

End.

4. Rule #24. I will maintain a realistic assessment of my strengths and weaknesses. Even though this takes some of the fun out of the job, at least I will never utter the line "No, this cannot be! I AM INVINCIBLE!!!" (After that, death is usually instantaneous.)

5. Rule #17. When I employ people as advisors, I will occasionally listen to their advice.

6. Rule #190. If my mad scientist/wizard tells me he has almost perfected my Superweapon but it still needs more testing, I will wait for him to complete the tests. No one ever conquered the world using a beta version.

7. Rule #6. I will not gloat over my enemies' predicament before killing them.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Evil overlord list series [podfics]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1394581) by [litrapod (litra)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/litra/pseuds/litrapod)




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